Questions
by DragonflyxParodies
Summary: (The laughter rose in volume, if only slightly, and a fingertip traced his jaw gently, heedless of his trembling. "No need to worry about your questions, Hero.") One-shot, rewritten/retitled, if you recognize it! No sex, but sexual themes.


"What are you?" The Hero's ragged breathing saturated the room with its invasive noise, just as the sound of his skin scraping against the wet stone, sliding through the thick layer of bone-cold water clinging to the floor did. His fingertips raked across the hilt of the Master Sword, the noise so, _so _loud as he tried to grab hold of his weapon. He was the only source of sound in the room—his bleeding, dying, terror.

His adversary moved soundlessly through the blanket of water, kneeling before the wounded Hero slowly, leisurely. A hand trailed down his thigh, fingers tightening around the hilt of a slender dagger before drawing it out of the Hero's flesh, soft laughter echoing around the room. He groaned in agony as the blade came free, but he managed to grasp the Master Sword's hilt and he immediately swung it desperately.

The Blade of Evil's Bane missed wildly, clanged violently against the wall behind the Hero, and tore free of his grip. Its ethereal chiming flooded the air as it spun deeper into the chamber—and abruptly ended when it fell into the water's suffocating embrace. The laughter rose in volume, if only slightly, and a fingertip traced his jaw gently, heedless of his trembling.

"No need to worry about your questions, Hero." The voice that spoke was soft, silken. A forehead pressed against the Hero's, liquid eyes meeting his.

"I asked-" Lips slid over the Hero's, silencing him immediately. There was nothing pure in the movement, but nothing lustful about it either, even as his enemies' tongue slipped past his lips and deepened the kiss. A palm cupped the Hero's cheek, touch little more than a caress. The other hand moved up his thigh slowly, drawing a noise from his throat.

His opponent pulled back only slightly, just enough to no longer be truly kissing him, though their mouths still brushed.

"Quiet, Hero." The voice was soothing, offering a promise of peace and silence. His eyes drifted closer to closing, as he lay limply against stone that leeched the warmth from his bones. His enemy's hand gently lifted the back of his head from the wall, fingers tangling in his golden hair as the other continued to creep upwards—

The Hero's eyes refocused, tearing free of his enemy's spell.

"What are you?" He demanded, voice harsher. But his body didn't tense, didn't fight as his enemy tilted his head up.

"Forget your questions. They aren't of any importance." Soft, persuasive, his enemy's voice slipped around him like a shroud. He shook his head slowly, like a giant dog trying to shake off confusion—still fighting.

He stood, pushing his foe away. He wasn't strong enough to stand on his own, and he slid along the wall in an attempt to escape as water poured like a sheet off him and the hundreds of cuts across his body opened, releasing thin ribbons of blood.

The door he had been making his way towards shimmered, vanished.

Tanned skin paling as his eyes met the other's, he sucked in a sharp breath. His enemy's mouth quirked into a smile, and approached soundlessly.

"Why?" The Hero asked hoarsely, the sick knowledge of what exactly was happening evident in his eyes. A hand reached up, fingers resting on his lips.

"What do you think I am, Hero?" The quiet question held something that scared the Hero, and he tried to move back instinctively—but he had already backed himself up against a wall, and it refused to yield to him.

He didn't dare speak.

Fingers fell from his lips, settling on his hips. It was then his body tensed, but he didn't dare look away, knowing that to do so would not end well. Again, his enemy's mouth touched his, tongue slipping past his lips. He stiffened as the pressure against his mouth deepened—there was something much more dangerous than hatred, or revenge, or hunger beneath the other's motives, though he had no idea what exactly that was.

Standing thigh to thigh, hip to hip, he was helpless. His enemy's mouth left his, moved to his throat. A tremor ran through him, as a hand slipped beneath his tunic.

"Is…your fear for…me, Hero…or for what is coursing through…your veins?" The silken voice was edged, and he tried to jerk back, to flee again. Instead his body grated against the other's, any and all distance between them vanished.

He scrambled for anything, any sort of weapon to defend himself, and instead found his hands clenching around his adversary's tunic, as if fearful the other would pull away.

His will buckled, broke. His injured limbs gave way and he crumpled to the ground—his enemy sank as well, jerking his head up. Mouths locked again, the water closed over his waist, and a numb feeling began to spread across the Hero as his fight slowly began to trail away. Soft laughter flooded the air, as his enemy pulled away, slowly lowering the Hero into the water.

"Sleep, Hero." The words fell on deaf ears, as the Hero slumped into the water's embrace. Lips brushed the Hero's forehead momentarily, and then laughing, the silken voice continued.

"But I don't have to be alone any longer, hmm?"

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**SO IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, I've been posting a lot of one-shots. Why? I went through some old crap (and I do mean crap) that I wrote a long time ago, and while most of the stuff is horrendous, some of it was alright. I changed the title, rewrote it a little bit ('Cause I first wrote this at like, 13/14, and just WOW). I kinda actually like this, though I can't believe I wrote this. -/- Anyway, hope you enjoyed. No judging, I promise.**

**On the bright side, this isn't a 30 page one-shot! It's only 2 pages!**

**AND NO, THIS DOES NOT MEAN THERE WILL BE SMUT IN How to Live. OR A Route.****OKAY? If you read those, anyway. (Go! Do it! It's got Sheik/Link!)**

**…****I can't believe I just did that. Wow. I'm so awkward at self-promoting. I need to stop.**


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